


the trail you left behind.

by Coloured_Rainbow



Series: I miss you, sometimes. [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Reader is Dead, Underfell btw, but it was definitely in some sort of surprise accident, like maybe a carcrash or a hit and run, not specified exactly why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coloured_Rainbow/pseuds/Coloured_Rainbow
Summary: Sans hadn't left his apartment in months and he knew he needed to do something.He walked over to his closet in his bedroom to find a nice outfit. Immediately, his eyes fell to his old jacket he used to wear everywhere. He relaxed, letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't even look at that jacket without hearing your voice.





	the trail you left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda a college au? Either way, you and Sans used to live together, either roommates or dormmates. You fell in love, dated, and... you died.  
> Now it's years later and Sans is still trying to deal with it.

He didn't want to go to this stupid party. He didn't want to interact with anyone or meet anyone or talk to anyone ever again.

But he was going. He hadn't left his apartment in months and he knew he needed to do something. If he had anyone around who cared about him, he knew that's what they'd say, anyway.

Sighing, Sans walked over to his closet in his bedroom to find a nice outfit. Immediately, his eyes fell to his old jacket he used to wear everywhere. He relaxed, letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't even look at that jacket without hearing your voice.

 

_"You really need to get a new jacket," you commented, glaring at Sans._

_He shrugged. "what's wrong with this one?"_

_"It's old. And dirty."_

_"from what i've seen, you're into some pretty dirty shit, so," he smirked. "didn't think you'd mind."_

 

He sighed again, reaching inside to grab the dulled fabric. you didn't like it at first, but for the past few months he had found you sneaking it on.

You liked the way it smelled like him.

Lifting the jacket up, he pressed it against his nose and took in a deep breath. It smelled like dust and shit.

Why the hell did you ever wear this?

 

_"wow," Sans chuckled, closing the front door behind him. "lookin sexy." You swiveled around, a shocked look on your face. You were seated on the couch with a book, wrapped up in one of his larger jackets._

_"O-Oh! You're home early!"_

 

He turned the coat around, looking at the old, sticky, dirty fur inside. This thing was ancient. Maybe he should've listened and got a new one, but he loved the way you looked when you wore it and could never bring himself too. Slipping his arms inside each of the sleeves, he took a deep breath.

 

_"Fine," you huffed, taking off and handing over the jacket. "I-It's just really comfortable, okay?"_

_"right," Sans chuckled, walking towards the door. "well, i'll be back soon and ya can wear it again. not that you will."_

_"Yeah," you clarified, crossing your arms. "Of course not. Ew." Sans smirked at you, stepping out the door._

_He walked down the hallway, shoving his hands in his pockets only when he exposed himself to the bitter winter wind by stepping outside. When he did, he flinched when his fingers hit a small piece of paper. Raising a brow, he pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it, reading the handwritten message it bore:_

_I love you._

 

Sans smiled sadly, looking down at himself. He didn't think he'd wear it anywhere, but it was nice to put it on again. Good thing he didn't throw it out right away like he did with most of his other old things.

He slowly slid his hand into the pocket, half expecting a note, but not expecting it enough that it surprised him when he actually felt a small piece of paper inside.

Time seemed to stand still. It was clearly an older one that he had overlooked--he hadn't worn it since you passed, he couldn't being himself to--but he couldn't help but hope that it was new and you would come stepping out of that closet with opened arms and a big smile.

 

_"you... love me?"_

 

Sans took a deep breath, slowly pulling the note out of his pocket.

 

_"..More than anything."_

 

Looking down and inspecting it, it was a lot nicer than the other ones he had received over the years; square and cut out with scissors as opposed to being ripped, his name written in cursive on the outside. He could feel his whole body start to shake at the sight of your handwriting.

 

_"I-Is that..... okay?"_

 

He swallowed, turning the note around in his hands.

 

_"of... yeah. yeah, it is...uh...... sweetheart?"_

 

He didn't want to open it. He could already feel his eyes begin to sting and he knew that the moment he opened that note was the moment he'd lose it.

 

_"..Y-Yeah?"_

 

His fingers moved to grip the end of the paper, trembling too much to get a decent grip. Opening it, he looked inside, his unfocused eyes reading your perfect handwriting:  
Will you marry me?

 

_"i love you too."_

 

Everything went silent as Sans dropped the note to the floor, tears beginning to stream down the sides of his face. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop the screams that started to pour from his mouth.

He stumbled to the side, smacking into the dresser and knocking some things from the top shelf. Instead of picking them up, he let out an ugly shout, slamming foot into the closet door hard enough to snap it off of one of its hinges. He then reached inside the closet and began to throw everything he get his hands on, violently stomping on them and knocking over furniture. He moved out of his room and into the kitchen, pulling out and tossing knifes, forks, spoons, his toaster, anything, letting them smack the walls and hit lamps and clank to the floor.

He sobbed, tightly gripping his head. Moving back to the bedroom, he screamed and blindly through his fist forward, sending it flying through the wall. There was loud crack when his knuckles make contact with the wall as it caved in where he hit it. He yelled, hurriedly pulling his hand back out. Suddenly, he stopped, looking down at his bloodied knuckles. Crimson liquid poured from between his white fingers, dripping onto the carpet.

Falling to the floor and tightly gripping his wounded fist, he cried even harder. He didn’t even attempt to muffle any cry or whimper that escaped his teeth. He softly cried out your name, pressing his injured knuckles against his stomach.

...

It never gets easier.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read series description to see why all of the weird one shots :)


End file.
